


Double-Crossed

by cupcakekillian



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6422764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakekillian/pseuds/cupcakekillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon breaking the curse, Emma and her family are returned to the Enchanted Forest. Everything is going perfectly until the Dark One tasks her with retrieving his missing dagger. There's just one person standing in her way; Killian Jones... AU Captain Swan. Rated M for future content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Deal With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> AU in which after Emma broke the curse they were transported back into the Enchanted Forest. However, because I am a masochist and want to make Hook really miserable when they meet, I’m going to alter the timeline a bit. Milah has just died; Hook never went to Neverland or met Cora. To keep things from getting too confusing; Henry’s father is just some anonymous man who is unimportant to the story (I’m a bitch, I know). If anyone has any other questions; let me know! Now to the story!

 

 Emma Swan tugged at the white, silky material covering her body. She repressed the urge to rip off the clothing and the torture device that lay underneath all her layers. You’d think in a world with magic, they would have discovered an alternative to corsets. Since she had arrived in the Enchanted Forest, she’d fought ogres, trolls, and even the Evil Queen, but had quickly discovered that her greatest enemy would be these _insufferable_ dresses. 

 

“You look miserable,” her mother smiled as she entered the room with a wooden box in her hands. 

 

“I don’t know how you manage this; I look ridiculous.”

 

“Lets just say my years as an outlaw did come with some advantages. For the record, you look beautiful,” Snow beamed. Emma shifted uncomfortably underneath her mother’s adoring gaze. 

 

“Only because I don’t look like myself,” Emma retorted and Snow’s smile dropped. She turned and focused her attention on the box she had brought in. Emma wanted to smack herself; she never knew when to stop talking and take a compliment. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just not used to all this,” Emma gave her mother a half smile; trying to mend the situation.

 

“I know,” Snow sighed as she opened the box and pulled out the most beautiful piece of jewelry Emma had ever seen. “And that’s my fault. But now you’re just going to have to get used to it,” Snow placed the tiara on her daughter’s head and couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes. The crown had belonged to Queen Ava, Snow White’s mother. It was a simple piece compared to some of the other items the vault contained. Adorned with pears and diamonds, it highlighted Emma’s beauty without overwhelming her. 

 

“Holy shit,” Emma blurted as she took in her reflection. Her mother laughed.

  
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,”

 

“I look like…” Emma trailed off, searching for words.

 

“A princess,” Snow finished, placing her arms on her daughter’s shoulders. 

 

Emma took in her mother’s expression; the unfettered pride and love, and any sarcastic rebuttals she had died on her tongue. Emma Swan knew that she wasn’t a princess, all hope of that had disappeared the moment she was placed in the wardrobe, but she would do anything to keep Snow looking that happy. “We should go,” Emma whispered, effectively breaking up the moment before things became too emotional. Snow pretended not to notice her daughter’s unwillingness to let her in and nodded in agreement.

 

“If you had told me when I was a fugitive that I would be attending the Evil Queen’s _wedding,_ I probably would have put an arrow through your head,” Snow laughed. 

 

“It took several decades and an adoption to bring her around,” Emma reminisced. They’d been in the Enchanted Forest for almost a year and she had managed to strike up an _interesting_ friendship with Regina. In fact, Emma was almost sad to see her marrying Robin. Emma and Regina bickered like cats and dogs make no mistake, but Emma felt that Regina understood her better than most and she would miss the Queen’s companionship. Not that Emma Swan minded being alone; she’d done it for 28 years, nevertheless…

 

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Snow stated as she gave her daughter’s hand a comforting squeeze. Emma looked herself over in the mirror once more. The crown was lopsided on her head and blonde tendrils had already begun to work their way out of her up-do. The bottom of her dress had begun to fray and she was already sweating under all the layers. This world had also not figured out an equivalent to deodorant and that was going to have to be rectified immediately. Emma Swan was still a mess amidst all the beauty.

 

 _Still…_ she thought as she did a hesitant twirl in front of the mirror. Emma wasn’t a princess. She knew that. But maybe if she pretended for long enough she could become one. 

 

**OOO**

 

The wedding was stunningly beautiful, the reception even more so. They sat in an open area, surrounded by pine trees. Tables filled the clearing and white flowers were placed everywhere. Emma was proud of her work. She and Regina had spend the past few weeks perfecting every detail of the wedding. Emma had been a reluctant participant at the beginning but Regina had insisted that Emma use her magic to assist her. _“You need the practice and it means less work for me,”_ Regina had said at the time. Now she was happy she had been included in the preparations, although she’d never admit it. Her real masterpiece was Regina’s dress. It had been created entirely from their shared magic; a beautiful burgundy piece with incredibly intricate details. When Snow had asked why Regina was departing from the traditional white, the Queen had replied that 1) she had done that before with Snow’s father and 2) she was far from pure and everyone at the wedding knew it. That had silenced Emma’s mother. 

 

Everything was stunningly beautiful and so Emma couldn’t explain the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. All the guests seemed perfectly content. Regina was dancing with Henry and Roland while Robin looked on. It looked like a fucking Norman Rockwell painting. So, why did she feel so on edge?

 

“Miss me, dearie?” she heard the voice whisper from behind her. Emma was up like a bullet from a gun, hands crackling with magic as she turned to face him.

 

Rumpelstiltskin. 

 

She should’ve known he wouldn’t stay away. She hadn’t seen him until shortly after they had arrived back in the Enchanted Forest. He had left to find his son. Apparently he hadn’t had much luck.

 

“What do you want?” Emma growled out. She turned to see if the others were unharmed when she realized they were frozen in their states of bliss. 

 

“No need to cause a scene, dearie. I simply wish to speak to you,” Rumple replied as he perched on one of the wooden chairs.

 

“Unfreeze them,” Emma demanded, eyes never leaving him. 

 

“Now, now that would be counterproductive to our chat. See I need something from you, Miss Swan, and I won’t be freeing your family until I get it.”

 

Emma felt herself at an impasse. She knew he wasn’t bluffing. She could try and attack him though she doubted she’d get very far on her own. She really only had one option. “What do you want,” she snarled. 

 

“I knew you were a reasonable woman, Miss Swan. Now to the problem at present. Someone has taken the Dark One dagger; the one thing that can control me. I need you,” Rumple pointed two boney fingers at Emma, “to retrieve it for me.”

 

“Why can’t you do it?”

 

“Because, dearie, I have been barred from doing so. The dagger is in the possession of King George, tucked away I know not where. Retrieve it and return here. Place the dagger in my outstretched hand and I will return your family to their rightful states.”

  
“What do you mean ‘place it in my outstretched hand’?” Emma had a feeling this would be far more complicated then he was letting on.

 

“In order to protect myself from being used, I am freezing myself as well. The only way to reverse the spell is to do exactly as I have instructed; it’s really not that hard. You’ll need to secure passage to and from King George’s kingdom. It’s about a month’s journey. And if you are to take on King George’s forces, you’re going to need to sharpen your skills,”

 

“That’s all,” Emma laughed dryly. She knew very little about her new home. The trip was going to be difficult to say the least. 

 

“That’s all,” Rumple purred. “Now, Miss Swan, do we have a deal?” 

 

She had no choice. She had just found her family; she wouldn’t let them go now.

 

“Deal.”

**OOO**

 

Killian Jones was so close. So close to enacting his revenge.

 

So close to killing The Crocodile. 

 

He could practically feel the dagger. It was pure luck that Rumpelstiltskin had lost the it shortly after he had crushed Milah’s heart. If it had remained in The Crocodile’s hands, he surely would have lost it forever. The fact that it was in the hands of the man who Killian blamed for his brother’s death was icing on the cake. Two birds one stone, so to speak. It had taken him nearly four months to track the dagger down. Now he stood in the armory beneath King George’s castle. It had been tough to get in; the place had been heavily guarded and well protected by traps. Still, Killian had always liked a challenge, and he’d managed. Now he stood right in front of his prize, savoring the moment when he would finally gain what he needed to kill his nemesis. He reached down to grab the blade. Today was a good day. Today was -

 

Killian’s train of thought was interrupted as a blade touched his throat the moment he picked up the dagger. He was quickly spun around, knife still in hand, until he stood face to face with his attacker. The man wore a dark cloak with the hood pulled up. He had a piece of cloth tied over his nose and mouth so that Killian could only see his green eyes peaking out. Green eyes that were staring expectantly at the dagger. 

 

“I’ve worked very hard to get this, I’m not just going to hand it over to you,” Killian told him. The sword the man held pressed further into Killian’s neck in reply. “Guess you’re going to have to kill me then, mate,” Killian smiled.

 

“Don’t think that I won’t, _mate._ ”

 

Killian couldn’t keep the shock off his face when the answering voice came out feminine. He stood there like a fish; gaping at his attacker. Even though her mouth was covered he could tell she was smirking. He finally managed to regain control of his tongue and was about to answer her when he heard the thunder of footsteps coming up the stairs.

 

Guards.

 


	2. Prison Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like this chapter! You can also follow me on my Tumblr: cupcake-killian and Vine: forever once. Also feel free to review if you're feeling generous :)

Killian looked at the woman holding him hostage. The guards were getting closer; Killian could hear their voices shouting about a breach in the armory. The girl was still smirking at him.

 

“We need to go, lass. They’ll be here any moment,” Killian said, breaking up their staring contest.

 

“The dagger, please,” she said and reached out her other hand.

 

“Over my dead body,” the pirate growled in response.

 

“That can be arranged,” she shot back, a seemingly playful tone to her voice. Killian was not in the mood.

 

“By the time you kill me and get the thing, they’ll be here and you’ll be captured and then what?” Killian fought to keep from yelling. 

 

The girl remained smirking, holding the sword to his throat. “You underestimate me. Besides, easier if the dagger stays here; saves me the trouble of tracking you down,” she explained. The calmness in her voice irritated Killian. He was supposed to be good under pressure, his line of work demanded it, but the whole situation had him on edge. He was so close and he wasn’t about to let some woman stop him. And then he realized what she was doing. Why she was perfectly content to stand here and waste time with him. It was her only option.

 

“You’re not going to kill me,” Killian said, a smile gracing his face. Even though she still had the bandana across her mouth, he could tell her face fell. 

 

“Why do you say that?” her voice remained steady and Killian confirmed what he already knew; she was good under pressure. Still, he had her figured her out and he now had the upper hand.

 

“I’m calling your bluff, love,” Killian quirked an eyebrow as he carefully moved the sword away from his throat. “You won’t kill me, so I’m going to take my leave now,” even as the words left his lips he was stepping closer to her, daring her to challenge him. He knew he should be leaving, but teasing her was just too much fun, especially as he watched the indignation appear in her eyes. It was the most fun he’d had since…

 

“You should’ve given me the dagger,” she replied.

 

“And why’s that, love?”

 

“Because you’re right; I won’t kill you,” Killian watched as her eyes lit up with mirth; she was smiling again and it instantly put him on edge. “But I can’t let you leave with what I need,”

 

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” _Run, idiot,_ he screamed at himself. This wasn’t going to end well for him, he could already tell. Her face was so alight with amusement he was surprised she wasn’t outright laughing. He wasn’t surprised when he felt the blow to his temple. He vaguely registered that she had hit him with the hilt of her sword. That was going to hurt when he awoke. His vision began to blur. He could hear the guards banging on the door. He looked up at her and watched as a gloved hand pulled down her bandana. _Beautiful_.

 

“That.”

 

The last thing he heard was her laughing. 

 

 

**OOO**

 

 

Killian’s head was pounding. He shouldn’t have drunken as much as he did. HIs entire body felt stiff; like he’d taken a beating. HIs bed felt harder then he remembered. And colder. _Wait._

 

He shot up and instantly regretted it. He took in the sparse cell around him. He was laying on a dirt floor. There was a small hole in the ground in the back corner to use as a toilet. It was dark; only a few torches lit the area around him. That was it. Killian had been in his fair share of prisons, but this one seemed bleaker than the others. 

 

“He lives,” he heard a voice call out from somewhere in the darkness. He blinked a few times as he tried to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A flash of movement caught his attention as he realized it was the girl from before. She was in the cell across from him. She wore sturdy black boots and her pants appeared to be made of some sort of brown animal hide. Her top was black and she wore a fur cape that was cinched in the waistline by a belt.  Her hood was down so Killian could get his first real look at her. She sat with her back against the far wall, ankles crossed, arms folded around her. Her hair was in a neat braid that draped around her shoulder. Green eyes, greener than any emerald he had ever seen, stared at him so intensely he could’ve sworn she was trying to set him on fire. She was stunning, that much was obvious. Very different from Milah.

 

_Milah._

 

She was why he was here. He could not allow a pretty face to lead him away from his mission. He needed his vengeance. In fact, he was surprised he had become distracted for even a moment. Revenge had become his top priority; he had no other reason to live. Even now as he pondered it it became a little difficult to breathe evenly, his anger towards the crocodile clouding his thoughts. He needed to focus.

 

“How long was I incapacitated?” Killian asked as he attempted to stand.

 

“A couple of hours. Be careful, they dropped you a few times on the way down here,” the girl smirked at the memory.

 

“I’m sure that really helped the damage you did,” Killian retorted as he slowly made his way to the bars. She said nothing. “Bad form, lass, blindsiding a man like that. What could someone like you want with the dagger, anyways?”

 

“Someone like me?” she asked, getting up onto her feet.

 

“Well,” Killian started as he began to fiddle with the lock, using his hook in an attempt to break it. “You’re clearly not ruthless enough to be trying to enact some sort of revenge, or you would’ve just killed me. No, you’re after something else entirely,” Killian sighed in frustration. The lock wasn’t budging. They were stuck.

 

“He has my family,” he heard the girl say. His eyebrows shot up and he searched her face for any trace of a lie, but he could find none. 

 

“And you intend to use the dagger to get him to do your bidding,” he deduced.

 

“Not exactly,” she admitted. “What do you want with it?” she asked, effectively changing the subject and he could tell that that was all he would garner out of her.

 

“I intend to kill him.”

 

“And why’s that?” Killian could see the genuine curiosity in her eyes and, while he knew he shouldn’t, he wanted to share his reasons with her. Only to see her reaction, of course. 

 

“The Dark One took something from me. A _few_ things, actually,” he replied, glancingly pointedly at his missing hand. He hoped she would take the bait and discuss the hand rather then what else he had lost that day. 

 

“Yeah, what’s with that?” She asked and Killian smiled because he could sense she wanted to press further, but could tell he was reluctant to speak about his other losses. “What are you? Captain Hook,” she laughed like it was a joke, but Killian couldn’t keep the surprise off his face.

 

“You’ve heard of me then?” he asked and her face morphed from one of amusement to shock.

 

“You’re… you mean you’re actually… You’re…”

 

“Captain Hook,” he finished for her and she began to laugh. Hard. “I’m afraid I’ve missed the joke,” and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face at her obvious amusement. It felt good to smile. He hadn’t smiled in quite some time.

 

“Don’t worry about it. You’re just not what I was expecting,” she explained.

 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Killian asked. Anger had always come easy to him; he had a quick-temper and a penchant for holding grudges. Yet, even though he sensed he was the butt of some joke, he could find no anger inside himself at the moment. The joy on her face destroying any hope he had at being angry.

 

“I haven’t decided yet,” she answered. And suddenly her smile disappeared and she looked guilty instead. Like she had been caught doing something bad. Killian could sense the moment between them was over and just like that the darkness returned. “The dagger’s gone,” she whispered so quietly Killian thought he had misheard.

 

“Pardon?” The word came out more of a growl then he intended and she saw her flinch visibly. 

 

“I had just gotten my hands on it when the guards came in. They took it. It heard them say something about moving it to a different location. It’s… it’s gone.” 

 

“Well that’s bloody perfect isn’t it,” Killian whispered darkly. He wanted something to hit but there was nothing in the fucking cell. All those months of searching had been for naught. It was gone. 

 

“Believe me, buddy, you’re not the only one that’s disappointed. Now I need to find a way home,” the girl sighed. 

 

“You’re giving up at the first sign of trouble. You seemed more determined than that, lass,” Killian smiled. Truth be told, he was glad she wasn’t going to keep searching for the dagger. Her presence made him uneasy. He felt like he was off his game when she was around; she kept him from focusing on the task at hand. 

 

“I’ve been at this for months. I need to get back to Mist Haven and my family and figure out an alternate plan.”

 

“Good luck getting out of here,” Hook muttered as he gave her a dry smile. 

 

“Oh ye of little faith,” she replied. He raised an eyebrow in question, but she merely turned her attention to her hair. Delicate fingers dipped inside her thick braid and emerged with two tiny pins. The girl stuck the two pins within the lock and begin to shift them around. 

 

“What are those?” Hook asked.

 

“Just a little something from my world. We call them bobby pins; useful for keeping hair in place and getting yourself out of sticky situations,”

 

“It’ll never work,” Hook replied, but his eyes remained glued to the lock. 

 

“Oh Captain, haven’t you learned by now,” she whispered, eyes fluttering closed as she concentrated. Suddenly, they were rewarded with a click and she swung open her door. “Not to underestimate me,” she shot back with a smile.

 

“Good form! Now get me out of here,” Hook demanded. He could tell by her sour expression that she did not appreciate him giving her orders. “Please,” he amended, although the word tasted like bile passing his lips.

 

“And why would I do that?” she asked as she pulled up her hood. 

 

“Because you like me,” Hook gave her his best “dashing rapscallion” smile although he was quite rusty and the action felt like a betrayal to Milah. Hook watched as the girl looked him up and down, silently appraising him.

 

“Alright, I’ll let you out. On one condition; you give me transport home,” she offered.

 

“Absolutely not!” It would put him too far behind schedule. The sooner he found the dagger the better. 

 

“Have fun getting yourself out then!” she smiled as she refastened her bandana over her mouth and nose. She readjusted her sword on her hip and began to make her exit. 

 

_Damn._

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hook called and the girl turned expectantly. He could always abandon her at the docks. “I’ll help you, just get me out of here.”

 

“Gladly,” she replied as she grabbed a set of keys off a hook near the main entrance to the prison. Soon enough Hook’s door was open and he had attempted to set off. He was stopped as he felt her arm grab his shoulder and spin him around so he was facing her. 

 

“Oh I’m sorry, love. Shall we ask one of the guards for a tour? We need to go,” Hook implored, impatience leaking into his voice. 

 

“Hey,” she reached up and tugged the bandana down to reveal her face. All words died on Hook’s lips as he took in her serious expression. “I’m trusting you. I don’t know you and I’m trusting you to get me back to my family and that’s pretty huge for me so… don’t let me down. Okay?” Her voice was softer then he would’ve though possible for such a powerful woman.

 

Killian Jones would never be able to explain why in that moment any thoughts of betraying her vanished from his mind. Why he simply could not bear the idea of letting her down. 

 

“I assure you that I’ll get you home and that no harm will come to you while you’re with me.”

 

A gloved hand was extended towards him. “Emma Swan,” she smiled.

 

“Emma Swan,” he repeated as they shook hands. 

 

_Emma Swan._

 

 

**OOO**

 

 

She wasn’t sure if she trusted him just yet, but he seemed earnest enough. She could probably secure passage with some other vessel, but this was the easiest option. She was glad she had chosen not to leave while he was passed out; he was a captain, things couldn’t have turned out better if she had tried. His face seemed genuine as she shook his hand; she was nearly certain he wouldn’t leave her at the docks or something. Emma pulled the bandana back around her face as she followed him out. 

 

_Damn_. She’d hate to betray him. 

 

Her hand dipped into her bag as she clutched the handle of the Dark One dagger. Betraying him would suck, but she needed to get back to her family. Back to Henry.

 

Pushing back her uneasiness, Emma Swan followed the one-handed pirate into the darkness. 

 

 


	3. Pirate's Life for Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos, bookmarks, and comments are much appreciated! 
> 
> Tumblr: cupcake-killian  
> Vine: forever once
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

 

She should bail. This guy was a pirate for fuck’s sake, and that reality was confirmed by the large sailboat looming in the distance. Emma knew absolutely nothing about boats, her childhood hadn’t exactly left time for sailing lessons, but even she appreciated its beauty. It was large and intimidating and she could see little figures scurrying around as they approached. Pirates. 

 

_Pirates._

 

The only pirates she had previous knowledge of were Jack Sparrow and Captain Hook, and so far one of those depictions wasn’t holding up to the test of reality. Her mother was Snow freakin’ White and she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that in front of her was Captain Hook. It was probably because he was so damn attractive, but she’d never admit that aloud. Still, she knew pirates weren’t exactly known for their generosity and charity, and if she got onto this boat she’d be committed. It wasn’t like she could just hop off at any time. Hook could also find the dagger and then she’d really be screwed. Then there was also the issue of her reputation.

 

“Hook,” Emma called tentatively when they were just about to board. The men could see her now, obvious curiosity etched onto their features as to why the captain had company.

 

“What?” he snapped. She had no idea what had made him so irritable. They had been silent the whole trip to the boat so it couldn’t have been anything she’d done. He was quite moody. No matter, it wasn’t her job to figure him out; she just needed to get home. 

 

“There’s something you should know.” 

 

“Out with it then,” Hook pressed. Emma had to stop from rolling her eyes at his tone. 

 

“These past months I’ve developed somewhat of a name for myself. I’m kind of notorious as a,” _savior, lost princess, symbol of rebellion against King George’s new regime,_ “bandit.”

 

“Most bandits are notorious, what’s your point?”  

 

“I’m _very_ notorious. Like, most wanted, public execution notorious. I’d fetch a high price if someone felt so inclined, and if any of them,” Emma gestured with her head to the men on the boat, “catch wind of that… it could be very bad for me,” she finished. Hook nodded slowly, turning his head to the right so he was no longer looking at her.

 

“And what makes you think I won’t turn you in?” 

 

Emma didn’t know why, but she sensed what she said next would carry a lot of weight. She didn’t hesitate. “Because we were in the castle of the richest man in the realm, and you didn’t touch anything but that dagger. You’re not a man motivated by money. Besides, you could’ve killed me at any point and you didn’t. You have a code.” 

 

Killian’s eyes snapped to her on that last word and for a brief moment she could see some long repressed emotion surface. Then it was gone. 

 

“Don’t worry about the men, they won’t give you a second glance.”

 

“Really?” Emma asked, skepticism leaking into her voice. 

 

“Yes, love,” he gave her a twisted smile and something in Emma turned cold. “Because you aren’t the first woman I’ve had on this ship and you certainly won’t be the last.”

 

 

**OOO**

 

It could’ve been much worse. There had been the stupid comments and praising of her looks, but for the most part the crew kept it pretty PG. Although, Emma sensed they had much more to say, but the look on Hook’s face kept them from speaking out. The crew were currently dispersing to perform their various tasks to get them out of port. Hook wanted to push off before first light and Emma appreciated the haste. 

 

“Come, I’ll show you to your chambers,” Hook muttered lowly under his breath, refusing to meet her eyes. Yeah, she’d definitely need to figure out what that was about.  

 

“Excuse me, m’am!” a voice called out and Emma turned to see a portly man with a red hat approaching her. He gave a little bow when he reached her.

 

“William Smee, at your service,” the man said as he extended his hand.

 

“Emma… Raven,” she said as she took it. She always chose different birds when she lied about her last name. She doubted anyone in the Enchanted Forest had seen the movie _Black Swan,_ but when that was the name they gave the bandit wreaking havoc in the kingdom she'd rolled with it. It was pretty badass and Emma knew it could've been much worse. She'd even taken to leaving a black swan feather at the scene of her various "crimes". She was certain Mr. Smee wouldn't have put two and two together if she'd given him her real moniker, but better safe than sorry. No one in this realm knew her full name except for her family. _And Hook._

 

“If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to let me know,” Smee smiled and Emma was taken aback by the kindness. She pushed back the little voice in her head telling her not to trust him; he was just being nice.

 

“Don’t you have something to do, Smee?” Hook barked, startling both Emma and her company.

 

“Yes, Captain,” Smee muttered and scurried off before Emma could say anything. 

 

“That was rude,” she admonished as she shot a glare at Hook. He rolled his eyes and stalked off. Emma followed.

 

“Smee’s a rat; don’t go near him.” Hook called as they walked through a entryway and into a small hallway. Doors lined the corridor on all sides and Hook stopped at one on the right. He pulled out a key ring from his belt and unlocked the door. It swung open to reveal a tiny room with a small cot pushed into a corner. A mirror was mounted on the wall and below was a small wash bin. 

 

“Just like the Hilton,” Emma sighed.

 

“Pardon?” Hook asked, although judging by his tone he didn’t care.

 

“Nothing. I think I preferred prison.”

 

“Well, that’s what this functions as. We don’t normally keep captives; I prefer to kill them immediately, so it’s usually free,” Hook explained nonchalantly.

 

“Fun.”

 

“Get some rest,” Hook nodded tersely. He _really_ wasn’t the warmest. 

 

Emma was about to let him go, but realized there was one more favor she needed to ask of him. “Hey!” she called. He stopped in the middle of the doorway that led outside and she could tell he was debating on ignoring her. He didn’t.

 

“What?”

 

“Do you have any clothes I could borrow? I’ve been in this stuff for the past couple days and I’d really appreciate it.” 

 

“Have I not given you enough?” Hook’s voice rose and Emma had no idea what had caused that reaction. 

 

_Play it off._ “Well, I just figured since I wasn’t the first woman on your ship maybe you’d have some left over stuff,” she replied. She tried to muster the warmest smile she could, she really wanted those clothes, but it fell flat and so she just stared at him. She could practically see the war he was having with himself. Without uttering a word, he strode down the hallway to the door on the opposite end. It was the grandest of all the entryways, with intricate carvings and fixtures. Hook took three keys and began the arduous process of unlocking the door. 

 

“You’re a little paranoid, aren’t you?” Emma asked as she gestured to the locks.

 

“I like my privacy,” Hook shot back as he pushed open the door. 

 

This was her first glimpse into the mind of Captain Hook.

 

The room was an absolute mess. Various pieces of paper and maps were scattered about on the desk and floor. His bunk was unmade and a cracked mirror sat on the floor; it looked like it had been punched. Certain items of furniture had been flipped over in what had clearly been a fit of rage. Empty rum bottles were littered about and there were scratch marks in certain places on the wall as though he had taken his hook and beaten it against the wood. Her eyes went to the only thing that appeared to be untouched in the room; a golden tool with a lot of different handles. She made her way over to the thing; it must’ve been very important if it had survived his wrath. Just as her fingers were about to graze its surface, a sharp voice made her jump back.

 

“Don’t touch that!” Hook shouted. She whipped around to see him staring at her, red-faced and furious, with a pile of clothes in his hand. She had seen him irritated and annoyed, but never this livid. She felt like she had just been caught shoplifting; not an unfamiliar feeling although entirely unwelcome. 

 

“What is it?” Emma asked. She wanted to smack herself; _not the right thing to say._

 

“It’s a sextant,” Hook sputtered, still taken aback that she would dare try and handle it.

 

“Sorry,” Emma shrugged. Expressing sincerity had never come easy to her.

 

“Just don’t touch anything,” Killian growled as he shoved the clothes into her hands, “Here.” He strode over to a half-drunken bottle of rum on his desk and took a long swig.

 

Emma played with the material in her hands. It was soft and durable; not nearly as revealing as she would’ve thought given the types of women she assumed he kept company with. No, this stuff had been taken care of; it was well-worn, but still in excellent condition. You only kept stuff like this when…

 

“I’m the first woman on the ship since you lost her,” Emma whispered, she didn’t even realize she had said it until she took in the expression on his face; the pain.

 

“What?” he asked, voice strained as he watched her.

 

“That’s why you’ve been so weird since we boarded; because it feels like a betrayal,” Emma concluded. Hook simply watched her for a long time; eyes moving in and out of focus. 

 

“Get out,” he said suddenly, voice emotionless.

 

“What?” Emma asked.

 

“You have your clothes now get out. You think you know me, Swan? You don’t know _anything_ about me. You and I are not the same, so stop trying to figure me out. Just take your things and go.”

 

Emma had never been good with emotions. She’d never had anyone to comfort her in her own times of weakness, which meant she had no idea how to do it for others. So she did what he asked and left. She went into her tiny room and put her head between her knees and tried to breath through the anger. Emma didn’t know why that hurt so badly. She couldn’t explain why the words felt like a knife to her chest; why a sudden weight settled over her, but she didn’t like it. He was right; she didn’t know him. He was clearly broken, but then so was she. Who was she to try and figure him out? She didn’t need to sympathize with him; they weren’t friends, he was doing her a service. It wasn’t her job to take care of him. She had one job and that was to save her family. She would stay far away from him and when all was said and done she would thank him and go on her way.

 

Captain Hook was not hers to fix.


End file.
